


don't you see...

by Kaillingme (Setty94)



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Angst, Depressing, Emotions, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 11:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setty94/pseuds/Kaillingme
Summary: In which Jongin realizes that love changes.





	don't you see...

**Author's Note:**

> [don't you see by v a s s h](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cakQ3yzH-Xw)

Jongin sighed as he opened his eyes. Next to him on the bed was Kyungsoo, sleeping soundly, his black hair disheveled and his full lips slightly parted.  He stared at him and ran a finger down the side of his face. He knew deep in his heart that he loved this man, that he wanted to give this man everything he deserved and much more. He knew that Kyungsoo still looked at him the way he did when they first met ten years ago, but Jongin also knew he didn’t.

He knew just under his surface, things had changed for him. Yes, he loved Kyungsoo with all his heart, but this love felt safe, and faded. It was but a ghost of the flame that existed between them. It was a false facsimile of what Kyungsoo deserved. He knew that he was being unfair and insincere when he told him that nothing had changed and that he still felt the same. Because there were so many times that he looked at Kyungsoo and felt _nothing._

But how could he tell him the truth when he looked into those doe eyes. Or when he caught him staring at him with that small knowing smile playing on those lips he used to love to kiss. How could he tell the man he still loved that their love was different now. That it was mundane and boring, that the passion had died.

Jongin slid to the foot of the bed and clambered off, landing softly on his feet and stretched. A small moan escaped his lips and on the bed, Kyungsoo stirred. He glanced to him, silently praying that he would stay asleep and tiptoed to the bathroom.

The scorching water burned his skin and hid the trail of tears that rolled down his cheeks. It was like this every morning. Every morning he crept out of bed to cry in the shower over the guilt he felt for keeping the lie alive.

The shower curtain was ripped back and Jongin hurried to bury his face in his hands. A gentle hand touched his back and he flinched. Kyungsoo could still touch him with the same reverence, the same love that Jongin no longer could maintain. He took a deep breath and turned to face him, plastering a strained smile on his lips. “Morning, Soo.”

Kyungsoo rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wrinkled his brow, “What’s wrong?”

“I got shampoo in my eye,” Jongin said. The lie was quick and easy, slipping out with no need for forethought. He dug the heel of his palms into his eyes and inhaled deeply, centering himself. He had to play the part. The part of a loving husband, in a loving relationship, that was secure and perfect and so _trite_. He opened his eyes and avoided Kyungsoo’s gaze. Right now, he couldn’t take it. He was so close to breaking that it hurt.

Instead, he looked at his body. Time had aged them well. They both still looked young -- young enough to get carded every time they went to the liquor store or ordered drinks at a bar -- and while Jongin was still quite fit, he had lost a bit of muscle tone over the years. As such, Kyungsoo had also lost muscle tone and replaced it with a bit of fat. He wasn’t overweight by any means and was still quite thin, but he had a little tummy now.

Jongin grimaced and tried to superimpose the image of a younger, tighter, Kyungsoo over the current one. It was superficial yes, but sometimes it helped him ignore all the signs of their aging. He reached for Kyungsoo’s hand and pulled him under the spray of the shower and began washing him. It was routine, mechanical motions: squirt soap onto shower poof, lather poof, apply to Kyungsoo’s skin and scrub. It allowed for Jongin to dull his thoughts and focus on the circular motions of cleaning his husband.

They exited the shower, both freshly washed and Jongin set to work cleaning the dishes from last night while Kyungsoo started cooking. They worked silently and in unison. The familiarity of it all numbed Jongin and soon he fell into his place. They talked over breakfast about casual things like the news and what they’d like to do for lunch or dinner and Jongin checked out. He answered dutifully, offering suggestions and nodding his head when warranted but he felt nothing.

“We should go out to dinner tonight,” Kyungsoo said after chewing a bite of scrambled eggs. A few crumbs bounced on his lips and Jongin frowned.

Once upon a time he would have laughed and jokingly wiped them away while admiring how cute he found it that Kyungsoo was a little messy when he ate, but now it only disgusted him, so he did nothing. “Why is that?” He asked, shoveling a forkful of bacon and eggs into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

Kyungsoo’s cheeks reddened, “Well, it’s our anniversary for one…” he trailed off, stabbing at his plate, chasing a piece of stubborn egg. “And when was the last time we did something nice like that?”

Jongin shrugged. He stuffed another scoop into his mouth. He guessed they stopped celebrating their anniversaries a few years back when they hit hard times and neither had the money to even feed themselves. In fact, on their sixth  anniversary, they had gone to the food bank to make sure they had food for the week and it was only a few days later that they realized they forgot it.

Things we hard back then. They were both still in school chasing degrees that would initially get them nowhere. Kyungsoo an English degree and Jongin a Fine Arts. And yeah, it was rough and they struggled for years trying to find jobs in a saturated market that wanted nothing to do with liberal arts. But, they struck gold when Kyungsoo was offered a job a few states away from their hometown. So they packed up what little they owned and moved.

Jongin supposed that was when things started dimming for him. They fought all the time, over stupid stuff like taking out the trash or whose turn it was to sweep the floor. And, at first, those were the only fights and they were easy. One of them would suck it up take care of whatever it was the other was complaining about and they would hash it out afterwards through sex. A couple of rough smacks here and a few drags of their nails and whatever was bothering them was fixed.

Then, that stopped working and Jongin found it hard enough just to maintain an erection. They would start and Jongin’s mind would get to rolling and he’d be soft and flaccid and Kyungsoo would sigh and roll over. Then, Jongin would have to coddle him and apologize and tell him that he just had a lot on his mind and his anxiety was making it hard to focus and Kyungsoo would whine and say that they weren’t having sex as often as they used to and Jongin would leave the room because he was right. They weren’t.

Not to say that sex always equaled love, but both of their love languages focused highly on touch and intimacy. While Jongin got his share of intimacy just by cuddling with Kyungsoo or by sleeping next to him, Kyungsoo needed that extra connection. That started other fights, nasty fights. Ones where they would scream at each other until they were red in the face and say things that they did not mean -- well a small part meant it, but those were the things you swallowed deep and hid from your partner, because well, everyone had a few nasty thoughts every now and then, but you never share them out of courtesy or fear of leaving scars that never quite healed.

Jongin remembered one fight in particular. He and Kyungsoo had been bickering all day over small stuff and he was bristling. He had tried his best to keep his anger under control but Kyungsoo had laid hands on him, shoving him and before Jongin knew it he pushed him back, sending him tumbling to the floor and knocking his head against the wall. There was nothing like the fear that rolled through Jongin in that moment. He ran to Kyungsoo, cradling him to his chest and apologizing over and over. But Kyungsoo simply pushed himself to his feet and brushed himself off.

That night, Kyungsoo fucked Jongin. Biting, scratching and slapping him around the whole time and Jongin said nothing because this side of Kyungsoo was new and exciting and he liked being treated badly. They fell into a cycle like that. Working each other up so hard that the only way to take out their anger with each other was in the bedroom, or on the kitchen floor or the dining room table, or bent over the back of the sofa. And it worked for them...for a while.

When Jongin had passed out after Kyungsoo choking him, they agreed on couples’ therapy. It was a weekly thing where they sat in an office and shared their feelings and emotions. At first Jongin found it stupid, but the nature of their relationship changed, it was healthy. Again, they fell into a routine and everything was fine. Jongin had learned how to express his emotions and Kyungsoo learned how to share his discomforts. They became a team, partners, and for a while Jongin was happy.

Now, as Jongin chewed his last bite of food silently, he knew things were going sour once more. It was just that this time, it was only him. He swallowed down his food with a swig of orange juice and worked a smile on his face.  “Sounds like a plan.”

 

The day passed on mundanely, as they had been for the past few months, and Jongin found himself getting ready for dinner. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kyungsoo sort through shirts to wear, trying them on, running to the mirror and then shucking them off to grab another.

“Why didn’t you tell me I’d gotten so fat?” He asked, pulling another nice button down off by the sleeves. “Nothing fits right.”

Jongin pursed his lips. He studied Kyungsoo and shrugged, “You haven’t gained that much weight…” he trailed and then walked over and placed a kiss on Kyungsoo’s temple. “You look fine, just wear the green shirt.”

He watched his husband dress and frown as he checked himself out in the mirror. Jongin sighed and pulled out his contrasting top. He slipped the deep-purple, silk fabric over his arms and buttoned each button without thinking. Down the hall he heard Kyungsoo muttering to himself as he pulled on dress shoes. Jongin smiled a bit. To him, Kyungsoo still looked good when he put the effort in and by that he meant, styling his hair and wearing something other than the sweater vests he wore for class or the sweats he wore in the house. It stirred something in Jongin. A faint echo of an old feeling.

The drive was quiet, only the background music of the radio tickling their eardrums. Jongin sat in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the window as they passed the streetlights. Outside there were people walking around, happily holding hands and laughing. Jongin felt jealous at their effortless bliss. He wanted to shout at them to stop rubbing it in his face, but instead he set his jaw and stayed silent.

At the restaurant, Jongin plastered a smile on his face and took Kyungsoo’s hand in his arm. He had to play the part of a loving husband in a loving relationship with no problems. Yet, he could feel his act fraying around the edges as pieces crumbled to the ground that he frantically picked back up, and shoved in random places, leaving cracks and gaps.

They sat down to order and Jongin laced his fingers through Kyungsoo’s. The latter looked up at him, eyes sparkling with the innocence of blissful love, and Jongin’s smile faltered. How long could he keep this up? He cleared his throat and sipped from his glass of water while his gaze searched the restaurant for everything but Kyungsoo.

The food, like the restaurant, was unremarkable, but Kyungsoo chattered happily, complimenting aspects of each dish. One had the right amount of salt (but it was too under cooked), another was very sweet (but also tasted a bit off) and the last dish was velvety (but the chocolate was bitter). And the more Kyungsoo complimented the mediocre dishes, the angrier Jongin got. But, he had a part to play, so he swallowed it down and nodded in agreement.

 

That night after they returned Kyungsoo was a little tipsy and that made him handsy. Jongin held his breath while Kyungsoo groped him under the blankets, not wanting to tell him to stop because it had been -- what, three weeks since they last were intimate? So he let him explore his body and responded in all the ways he knew Kyungsoo liked. A moan here and a squeeze of the arm there. He turned his face into the pillow to hide his blank expression and ran his nails down Kyungsoo’s back, holding him close, but not really feeling anything.

A breath, a whimper, a tightening of thighs and Kyungsoo came, smiling down at Jongin in the haze of his orgasm. And, Jongin kissed him, chastely, and rolled off the bed to get cleaned up. But, once the door to the bathroom closed, he collapsed to his knees, his chest squeezing as he struggled for air.

He gasped, hot fat tears plopping onto the bath mat as his sobs compressed his body so heavily that he felt like he was going to vomit. He crawled to the toilet, dry heaving and shoving his fist in his mouth to keep from waking Kyungsoo up with his crying. His body rattled, arms and hands shaking violently as the sobs robbed him of all his strength.

The toilet seat was cold to his wet skin and he laid there, numb and empty. Shuddering every time he inhaled because he was feeling so cold, so drained, so _empty_ . Slowly, he unfolded himself, standing on wavering feet, he padded back to the room and crawled into bed next to the man he told himself he loved. The man he told himself he _needed_ to love.

Jongin snaked his arms around Kyungsoo and pulled him close, tears -- of which he thought he had completely expended -- slicked the black strands. A pale hand rose and touched there, coming back shiny. A body shifted and Jongin found himself being held and caressed. His shoulders shook and once again he was gasping for those precious gulps of oxygen. He hiccuped, digging his nails into the plush of Kyungsoo’s thighs and glanced up at him.

“Don’t you see…” he never finished the sentence, because when he really looked at Kyungsoo he saw he was crying too. The dam broke and Jongin was clawing at Kyungsoo, to hold him close, to feel the heat of his skin on his. He shook against the man he _knew_ he loved. The man that loved him more than he deserved.

“I know. I know,” he whispered. “Don’t tell me, because I know.”

Somewhere inside of Jongin, he knew Kyungsoo knew. Because some point along the journey of their relationship, Kyungsoo had stopped looking at the sky and was looking at the ground. And when both people were looking at the ground, they forgot to look at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another sadfic. I was having a rotten week, and going through a lot of the emotional baggage that made my hiatus so long. This fic is based on a lot of real emotions and stuff I went through to get where I am now and for some reason whenever this feeling comes back, I write Kaisoo, because Kaisoo is me, they're always me. Bits and pieces of both are taken from me and sewn together into the characters you read. And their heartbreak was once my heartbreak. That's why this fic means a lot to me and hopefully to others that read it.
> 
> Until next time lovlies~


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